A collection of unfiltered, 7th generation kinescope recordings of subway documentary and burlesque show excerpts that were wrecklessly unearthed from the deepest bowels of Hunter S. Thompson and Freddie Mercury’s love child’s twisted repressed nightmares that are being forcefully displayed in front of your mechanically pryed open eyelids by both an old asthmatic woman who is reading poetry and a large group of oriental children on mescaline playing kazoos, synthesizers running low on batteries, and banjos thru 11 differently configured guitar amps simultaneously in a cornfield guarded by growling black dogs tied to tiki torches with trimmer line that hit you suddenly and surprisingly at 4 AM like a kick in the genitals from behind by someone wearing ruby slippers partially wrapped in aluminum foil.